


At the bottom of Pandora's Box was Hope

by SpaceShark



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Family Drama, I don't know how this came to my mind, Political Alliances, Political Drama, Trump is Trump, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceShark/pseuds/SpaceShark
Summary: There was a reason Hope Hicks had such a high place at the Trump Administraton's White House.I don't know why I'm writing this. Probably my way of rationalizing the insanity. Future updates with deal with Hurricane Harvey, North Korea, Venezuela, an attempted coup, and more drama, House of Cards style.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day at the White House. Donald Trump had just announced he was going to "intervene militarily" towards Venezuela. "This country has suffered enough at the hands of a failed socialist regime and civil war," Trump had said in a press conference that afternoon. "The United States will do its part in securing democracy and order in Venezuela, and I call upon our allies in Latin America to support this noble endeavor."

Twitter was already buzzing about the news. Unsurprisingly, most of the Dem leadership was criticizing like they always did. Schumer was calling him "an undemocratic warmonger". Him! Stupid neoliberal loser. And Kamala Harris, that infuriatingly brilliant woman who was California's junior senator, only followed Schumer's footsteps.

Screw them all, thought Trump as he headed for bed. I  _will_ establish order in the failed Commie state. Rex and Jared are already riling up support from Colombia and Brazil, or that's what they told me. Why bother inquiring further. Ryan and McConnell would shoehorn the Congressional approval for war anyways.

Trump tried sleeping for an hour, but couldn't. Too much on his mind: Venezuela, North Korea making more noises about nuking Hawaii and Tokyo, Confederate statues, Bannon coming back to bite him in the ass, Ryan and McConnell...

Yep, he couldn't sleep. So he got out of bed, took out his phone (one that John Kelly hadn't confiscated yet) and make a text. 

Five minutes later, Communications Director Hope Hicks was standing in the doorway. Tall and stunning, she asked Trump, "You asked to see me, Mr. President? Do you want me to get someone on the line?"

Trump gave a small grin. "That's not why I asked to see you."

Hope grinned back.

* * *

 Their affair had begun way back in the early months of 2016. She was beautiful, Trump said to himself many times. And he was always attracted to beautiful. She was a former Ralph Lauren model, after all. But better for him, she was even more attracted to the powers and privileges of being the secret mistress of a rich man. She had a boyfriend, but that was easy enough to take care of -  _a hundred thousand from a secret slush fund shut that cuck up for good._

After Putin and the Electoral College won Trump the presidency, Hope's position in life went through the roof. A member of the transitional team (without any prior political experience - but then again that also applied to Trump), she'd been given the role of "strategic communications", and made as much money as Kellyanne and Bannon. Those who kept tabs on Trump and his advisers would have noticed this straight away, as well as the fact that her office was well placed. 

Melania was furious, but there was little she could do. Divorce was not an option, for the sake of Barron. She'd never wanted to be First Lady, and had done everything in her power to keep Donald from running. For now, she focused on her son and occasional duties that the First Lady was expected of. Michelle Obama had set that bar very high, and Melania knew she wasn't prepared to fill those shoes.

While Flynn, Spicer, Priebus, Scaramucci, and even Bannon had been replaced by sycophants or generals to appease the Democrats, Hope had survived the various White House purges intact. Now, she was the new Director of all Communications. Just like Trump had promised her.

Life was very good. 

* * *

 

After they'd finished, Trump rolled back on his belly and made a half-hearted attempt to grab both his clothes and phone. "Gotta tweet something real fast, Hopey."

Hope laughed. "And what is it going to be? 'I just had a GREAT evening in the White House. Melania did too!'"

"Screw her."

"Actually, no. You suggest the wrong thing online or in person and you'll have the GOP hammer on us."

Trump smirked. "You know Ryan and McConnell only care if a Democrat cheats. Look at the Clintons. It was soooo easy to use that against crooked Hillary."

"Still, my point is that you should be more discrete when you're texting me. You even had a Secret Service guy at the door. What he had ideas?"

"About you, sweetie?"

Hope rolled her eyes. There were definitely pros and cons to this affair. and the cons involved wisecracks from a manchild. Whatever it took to be powerful, she thought. She wasn't the first mistress Donald Trump had taken and she could always be replaced. "About us."

"He's well paid for his silence." And before Hope could react, Trump put a finger on her mouth. "Shh shh. Nothing to worry about. His mother has cancer. I've assured him that she won't lose her insurance."

"Like everyone else."

"What do you care?"

"I don't, but if you're not going to be subtle about being a hypocrite, at least appear to be."

Trump's phone buzzed. But it wasn't Twitter. It was from Mattis: "King in the North at it again. You may want to check with Tillerson and McMaster." King in the North was the code name for Kim Jong Un, and by extension North Korea as a whole.

"Look's like we'll have to end this one early," said Trump as he began to slip out of his bathrobe and find a decent shirt and clip-on tie. "Hopey, mind grabbing Jared, Ivanka, and Kelly for me? I don't feel like having to annoy each of them."

That meant he wanted Hope to light a fire under them and make them realize Donald was actually serious.

"Sure thing boss." Her tone of voice had switched from lover to subordinate. They could always meet later in the privacy of the White House.

Besides, Kim had been threatening to nuke an American base for weeks. What harm could he do now, with all his blunderbuss?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope runs into Stephen Miller, and begins planning his downfall.
> 
> Also, John Kelly hates Trump's sycophants.

John Kelly, former Secretary of Homeland Security and now Chief of Staff for Trump, reviewed his notes one last time before entering the conference room. He put on his straight face (for he hated working for Trump, but went along with it for the good of the nation) and took his seat.

Looking around, Kelly took note of who was here: Vice President Pence, FEMA Administrator Brock Long, Transportation Secretary Elaine Chao, Energy Secretary Rick Perry, HUD boss Ben Carson, Treasury Secretary Mnuchin, Ivanka and Jared, EPA head Scott Pruitt, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, Stephen Miller, Kellyanne Conway, and Comms. Director Hope Hicks. Of course Hope. Trump took a fancy to her. He said she could offset Kellyanne’s “less than pleasing looks”, although Kelly had spotted him try to flirt with her more than once.

 _What a sorry bunch of people he calls “advisors”,_ thought Kelly. Losers, cheats, and crooks, the lowest of the low, and Trump had elevated them to the highest of the high. Not without help from the rubber stamp entity that called itself the Republican Party. Putin must really have them by the balls for them to approve of such an incompetent lot.

“Alright everyone, have a seat,” said Kelly. “First priority of the day is Hurricane Irma. Brock, the latest?”

“It’s bad. We have every indication that Irma is much larger than Andrew, Katrina, or Harvey. You all should have seen the devastation it’s done to the Caribbean. If you thought the damage in Texas was big, you haven’t seen anything yet. Perry, Carson, I hope both of you are taking notes, because in the next few days your departments are going to be flooded, pun not intended.”

“You know, this might actually be a blessing in disguise. Depending on the exact path, Florida could be in our camp for the next twenty years.”

There was a long silence after Miller spoke. The last true white nationalist left in the White House, Stephen Miller had been careful not to arouse anyone’s fury, and courted cabinet members and congressmen sympathetic to his vision of America. However, he had to contend with the new Chief of Staff, who’d put enough pressure to force Bannon and Gorka out of the White House and back to their mouthpiece Breitbart.

The stunned silence was finally broken by Kelly. “Just shut the fuck up, Miller.”

Miller turned to Hope, seated next to him, who in turn looked at Donald Trump. The president nodded for Brock Long to continue on.

“Rick Scott is advising everyone in one of the many potential landfall routes to evac ASAP. It’s the opposite of what we saw in Texas, but keep in mind that this is more of Ike than Harvey…”

Throughout Brock’s report, Hope Hicks noticed Mnuchin taking notes, scribbling it all down on a notepad. _He knows this is going to cost a lot when it’s all said and done, Hurricane Jose notwithstanding. And Trump’s going to be furious at the number._

No matter, she’d persuade him with other means.

“Moving on,” said Kelly. “What’s the latest on the fires on the West Coast? And Miller, if you open your trap again…”

No one needed to hear what would come next.

More back and forth discussion. Perry and Pruitt always felt the need to bring up how climate change was a hoax, even with the hurricanes and fires. Kelly,Chao, and Long were clearly the only ones with a shred of competency and experience. Carson had suggested at least once that maybe the people in the disasters could pull themselves by their own bootstraps, “where they can, of course, and let’s not forget that this is all on our dime”.

Had Hope not been so allured to power, she’d have left the room ten minutes ago.

“Can we talk about DACA now?” blurted Trump, out of nowhere.

“Sure, we can,” said Sanders. “Despite that little shift of responsibility to our friends in Congress, they still know it’s you behind it all.”

“Whatever. I’m not responsible for Ryan and McConnell of they can’t get this one passed and once again prove themselves yuge failures.”

Another round of bickering followed. Miller spoke about how he’d _told_ Trump to just rescind DACA via executive order. It’s what Bannon would have done.

“Don’t mention him again,” said Trump.

“I know you and him have had differences, but he’s your friend, and getting rid of him was an idiotic-“

“You heard him,” warned Hope. Her voice was waspish and spoke daggers.

Miller gave her a death stare as Mnuchin and Kelly debated the financial costs of deporting the DREAMers.

\---

Later, as everyone returned to their offices, Hope was pulled aside by Miller. “What the hell was that back there?”

“Excuse me?”

“You damn well know what you were doing. Stop it.”

“Why?” She was honestly getting tired of Miller. He may not be hitting on her like Bannon used to do, but he was an ass all the same.

“I will not be questioned. You may have Trump’s ear and bedside, but without it you’re nothing.”

“What?” She pretended to be confused over the idea that she was sleeping with Donald Trump.

“Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and how you always stick up for him. I have a lot of respect for Donald, but that doesn’t apply to you. Keep it up, and we’ll find a way to send you back to whore city.”

Then Miller turned and left, walking briskly, without saying another word.

\---

The rest of Hope’s day was largely uneventful, aside from the follow-up warning email from Miller. As Donald’s chief enforcer, this seemed standard procedure, as he’d done the same with Spicer and Flynn before they’d been purged by Donald. This time, however, this was without Trump’s blessing.

He clearly intended to harass her until she bended to his will.

She thought about who she could tell about this. Ivanka was her best friend and go-to for things like this, but chances were that she wasn’t able to fix this either. Miller outranked Ivanka in Donald’s mind. Jared was a dunce. Kellyanne was in Miller’s camp. There wasn’t a cabinet member around worth a pitcher of warm spit. Kelly might, but he didn’t care for her.

It would have to be Donald himself that would rein Miller in. And Hope hated the idea of having to do more “favors” for him to get it done.

But it would have to happen. She had won too much to lose it to this asshole. She was the White House Director of Communications, and with the right words could send governors and senators in a tailspin. Oh no, that she would not lose without a fight.

If Receding Hairline wanted a fight, she’d give it to him.

It gave another purpose to why she was getting herself a lawyer.

\---

That night, as Hope and Donald slept in bed, she brought it up: “Miller. I want him put in his place.”

“W-What, honey?”

“You know who I’m talking about. I’m not going to tolerate that ass thinking he’s better than me anymore.”

“But why? I like him.”

“You also told me, on various occasions, you liked Priebus and Spicer. Where are they now?’

Donald rubbed his head. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“No, not just talk. _Warn_ him. Tell him if that he ever tries to cross me again, we’ll ruining him so hard he’ll be begging the Democrats to take him in. I know you have dirt on him, just like the rest of the people in the White House.”

She was right. The only dirt on her was that she was sleeping with the President, and she kept that tightly under wraps. Besides, Trump didn’t want to have to deal with this woman this late at light. They weren’t even going to have sex again tonight. Still, it beat having to sleep with Melania.

“Fine,” he groaned.

Hope smiled to herself. Another name off her list.


End file.
